


I don't want to know who I am without you.

by EscapingReality51



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Aaron Dingle is happy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Robert Sugden isn't, alcohol cw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 10:18:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12166947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EscapingReality51/pseuds/EscapingReality51
Summary: Robert tries to deal with his break-up as best he can.





	I don't want to know who I am without you.

**Author's Note:**

> the lyrics come from a Bear's Den song called Agape
> 
> for Fiona

It’s not easy.

Rebecca is looking at him with sad eyes, cradling a child in her arms that for 8 months he thought was his. The black hair on the baby’s head tells him clearly that it isn’t.

It’s an idea wrenched from his mind before it could fully form. It’s the possibility of doing better than his father did, the possibility of doing something that matters and when it leaves it takes with it Robert’s sense of compass. He has nothing to gain his bearings from. He may have hated the way he thought the child was created, but with the knowledge that Aaron was out of the picture Robert found some joy in the thought of someone loving him unconditionally. Ross’ shocked expression at least makes Robert feel slightly better about the whole debacle.

He sees Vic and she’s almost as mad at Ross as she is at Rebecca. She hugs him more now, comforting and loving and it makes the ache in his chest lessen somewhat. At least until the next big punch comes.

 

He is having dinner with her when he sees Aaron with him. His curry turns to ash in his mouth as he stares at the two of them, sitting too close for Robert’s comfort and Aaron has that look in his eyes that shouldn’t be directed at anyone but him. It hurts, it burns his skin and his brain and it makes him ache with something he thought long gone, a throbbing pain that seems to originate somewhere in his chest where his heart used to be. 

He becomes too aware of his crumpled shirt, his day-long stubble, his rumpled hair. He becomes too aware of the fact that he is having lunch with his sister when Aaron is on a date. It’s too much too soon but he swallows the food in his mouth, washes it down with a pint and puts on a smile that can only look as fake as it feels. 

He can’t hide - he never could with Aaron. 

So he drinks. 

It starts in the afternoon, home from work it is the only thing that makes his brain switch off, makes his pain numb to something bearable. After spending too much time in Aaron’s company the numbness is welcoming, a distraction from knowing what he lost, what he managed to ruin despite not really ruining it. Aaron’s moved on and even though the baby isn’t his, Aaron still doesn’t want him. It’s not that surprising, when Robert actually thinks about it. He always was a disappointment. 

One drink becomes half a bottle. His hands are shaky when he wakes up but at least it means he can sleep a fitful four hours compared to the meagre 2.5 a few weeks ago, so he takes it as a victory. 

He sees Aaron with  _ him _ and it makes him ill, stomach turning and appetite leaving him. 

He loves him. 

The guy kisses his cheek as they say goodbye and it’s all Robert can do to not burn the portacabin down with himself inside it. 

 

Aaron knows. He has to. Rebecca left with the baby and Ross is sulking in the town, scorned by both Debbie and Rebecca. Robert hasn’t been near Home Farm since it happened and he  _ has _ to know. Still he doesn’t approach him; he stays away, and whenever Robert tries to reach out he hesitates. Liv says he’s doing alright, says they are both being idiots and Robert knows for a fact that he is but there’s nothing he can do about it. This is what Aaron wants, and as long as that is the case, Robert is letting him run the show.

 

Robert spends Christmas with Vic and Diane and Doug, but it isn’t the same. He’s missing a part of himself. The next day he takes his ring off, places it in its box next to Aaron’s, and puts it in the bottom drawer in his bedside table. He feels closest to it when he needs the comfort the most.

 

Robert meets Jonathan. 

He is staying away from Aaron, giving him space. It has been months now and Aaron’s still keeping his distance, still acting as if there was nothing between them. He’s doing better though, and that is the most important thing. Robert just always assumed Aaron was happiest with him, but seeing him smile so often now makes Robert doubt everything.

So Robert can’t help himself.

Jonathan is a lawyer for one of Robert’s clients and after a particularly hard negotiation Robert invites him to the pub. He is tall, almost the same height as Robert, and he wears an expensive suit. His brown hair is short and he wears glasses and Robert thinks he sees it; that smile that tells him there’s the potential for something more. 

He’s not the type of person Robert usually goes for, but he can’t deny that seeing him cut-throat angling for a deal makes Robert forget the rings lying in his drawer for a second. It’s a second of relief, and maybe Jonathan can give him more.

Maybe this will make Aaron see that Robert is worth fighting for, maybe he’ll get jealous. Or maybe, Robert thinks, he’ll finally let Robert go. He probably already has. 

Robert orders a pint and Jonathan orders a Gin and Tonic. Charity raises an eyebrow at him while she makes their drinks, gives him a small smile as if to give him permission. Not that he needs it.

“So,” Jonathan says, “I didn’t expect this.”

“Didn’t expect what?” Robert asks, smiling over his pint. He takes a sip and absentmindedly licks the foam from his upper lip. Jonathan’s eyes follow the movement. 

“To be invited out by the guy I was just working against.” 

“What can I say… I thought you were impressive, wanted to learn more about you.” 

Robert knows the line is too much, but Jonathan doesn’t seem to mind. He takes a sip of his drink and eyes Robert shamelessly. He can’t remember the last time someone looked at him like that. Well, he can’t remember the last time someone who wasn’t Aaron did it. Aaron’s blue eyes roaming his body is seared into his mind.

“I have to say, I was surprised to find someone like you in a Yorkshire haulage business.” 

Robert doesn’t quite know what that means. So he asks. 

“I mean, someone clearly well-educated, capable, someone who could be doing a lot better in a larger business.” 

Robert shrugs. 

“This is my home… at least I think it is.” Robert feels that lump in his throat, takes a sip of his pint to wash it down. “This is the job I could get, and I’m good at it.” 

“I don’t doubt it,” Jonathan replies, “you’ve clearly got a sense for this kind of thing.” 

“What thing is that?” Robert flirts. Jonathan grins at him. 

“You know exactly what I meant -” 

Robert’s eyes are drawn away by the entrance of Aaron.

He is laughing with Adam at what Robert assumes is a hilarious joke, all smiling eyes and boyish grin. Robert’s heart sinks. His eyes follow him, can’t help but watch him as he walks across the room and as Aaron orders a pint, their eyes meet. His gaze flickers between Robert and Jonathan and he raises an eyebrow, surprised and Robert hopes, a little jealous. That’s just wishful thinking though. 

“Robert?” 

He is brought back to his table by Jonathan’s voice. He meets Jonathan’s eye, smiles and tries to ignore the growing pit in his stomach. Smiling doesn’t help. 

“You alright?” he asks.

“Yeah, ‘course.” Maybe if he says it one more time it will feel more right. “Just got distracted by something…” 

“Someone, more like.” Jonathan looks over, finds Aaron and sighs. “Ex?” 

Robert nods. Takes a sip. The pit is growing to a black hole. 

“Right…” Jonathan empties his glass before he takes out a slip of paper and slides it across the table to Robert. “Call me when you’re ready, yeah?” 

Robert looks up at Jonathan, doesn’t quite understand what is happening. 

“You’re clearly not ready, mate. Call me when you are, maybe we can meet up again.” 

With that he leaves. Robert is left at the table with a growing flush on his cheek, his half-finished pint, and a sour taste in his mouth. He drains his glass, licks the foam from his top lip and walks out of the door as quickly as he can. Aaron and Adam’s laughter follows him out, mocking, punishing. A reminder of what he has lost, what he ruined. 

He knew he wasn’t ready. No one who so fiercely holds on to the wedding rings from a broken marriage is ready. He walks home, gravel crunching under his feet and heartbeat ringing is his ears, and his constant self-loathing coursing through his body. 

He’s working at the portacabin the next day, sitting at his desk and minding his own business. They’re managing a routine now; they pretend the other isn’t there and Adam pretends it isn’t awkward. 

Adam is currently outside, and Robert has read the same paragraph of the contract 17 times during the last 5 minutes. He can hear Aaron breathing, and it is enough, distracts him so much he can’t focus on anything. He closes the file and puts his head in his hands, fingers snaking through his hair. 

“Not go well last night?” 

Robert’s head shoots up, meets Aaron’s steely blue eyes. He is smiling, but not in a mocking way. More in a friendly way. The pit that has now permanently replaced Robert’s stomach grows at the sight, hate coursing through him. Hate for himself more than anything.

Robert does the only thing he can think to do. He shrugs. 

“Saw him give you his number though, it can’t have been that bad.” 

“Was alright.” Robert hasn’t taken his eyes off him, doesn’t want to. The only reason he doesn’t spend his whole day staring at Aaron is that it isn’t exactly something you do to you ex-husband.  Ex-boyfriend. 

Whatever they are.

Aaron bites his bottom lip, and then he’s back to his paperwork. Robert sighs. The removal of Aaron’s gaze feels almost like a physical ache. He stares down at his paper, finds the page he was supposed to be on, and starts reading again. 

“I want you to be happy, Robert.” 

He freezes. He hears Aaron shuffle something, hears him get up and go outside and only when the door closes does he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He feels the pit in his stomach drink of every delicious feeling of  _ guilt _ and  _ regret _ that courses through him, feels his breaths become shaky. Aaron still cares. Even if it is only as friends. Maybe that’s enough.

 

It is his wedding anniversary.

Which means a wedding anniversary for a marriage that wasn’t legal to a man who now is indifferent to him. A man he hasn’t spoken to in weeks. A man who is seeing other people, fit well-educated other people and it makes Robert’s stomach flip.

Robert can’t forget the date though.

It is seared into his mind; happy memories of soft kisses and kinder words, of Aaron smiling as Robert slid his ring on his finger, of drinking out of a welly so Aaron’s family would call him one of their own. He remembers smiling so much his face hurt, holding Aaron’s gaze across the room as they talked to others. He remembers taking him upstairs and spending their last night together - their last completely happy night together.

It seems like an age ago.

Aaron seems happy now. He smiles, he laughs. Robert can’t help but notice him whenever their paths cross, slightly long curls adorning his head, a grin adorning his features. Liv helps, makes him happy, as does the new bloke. Whatever his name is.

So Robert goes the one place he can think of to find comfort, the one place he knows he can allow himself to be truly sad. He is used to hiding it, making sure no one catches on (except Vic, but she always knows). He goes to his mother.

The ground is cold and damp beneath his knees, the frost of february making him wince. The bottle in his hand cold and damp as well. He twists the cap and takes a swig, relishing the burn down his throat and all the way to his empty stomach, distracting him from the constant pain in his chest, that black hole that is ever-growing, the ache that hasn’t lessened in the 9 months since Aaron told him it was over.

Her name etched into stone is a comfort, a sad reminder that someone once loved him. Only two people has every loved him unconditionally, and one of them is in the ground. The other is happier without him. So at least he can spend some time with her memory on a day that only a year ago was filled with love.

He takes another swig.

It isn’t that he and Aaron ignore each other completely. Accepting that Aaron was happier without him was hard but necessary, hard because people always are and necessary because Aaron deserves to be happy. Much more than Robert does. So he stayed away and gets the occasional update from Liv and when they work together in the portacabin it is civil but mostly just quiet.

The third swig doesn’t burn as much as the first two, so he takes another one. Distraction has to come in one form or another. By the time he stops feeling the wet ground the bottle is almost half empty.

He hears the footsteps but ignores them. He doesn’t expect them to grow louder, doesn’t expect them to stop not far behind him. He certainly doesn’t expect the voice that replaces them in the silence.

“Thought I might find you here,” Aaron says. Robert looks back, sees him standing with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his down-jacket. He looks almost sad, and Robert doesn’t want to see him like that, doesn’t want to see the pity in his eyes. 

“Were you looking for me?” Robert’s tongue feels heavy in his mouth, words spilling out like mercury, thick and heavy and slightly toxic. 

Aaron shuffles on his feet, stares at the ground and sighs. 

“Today is -” he begins but Robert can’t bear to hear him say it. 

“I know.” 

Aaron nods, bites his lip, seems indifferent apart from the fact that he is here and he really shouldn’t be.

“I wanted to… I don’t know,” Aaron sighs as he speaks. 

Robert lifts the bottle in a gesture he hopes comes across as civil. Aaron shakes his head so Robert takes a large gulp instead. 

“Sure that’s a good idea?” he asks. He is still standing, towering over Robert like a dark-hooded figure in a fantasy novel. 

It is Robert’s turn to shrug. “It helps.” 

He tries to get up but the world disappears, pulls away beneath him faster than his feet can follow and suddenly Aaron’s arms are wrapped around him, holding him up and pulling the spinning world back into focus. He looks up and there are Aaron’s blue eyes, big and glowing and drawing him in. Robert closes his eyes and shakes his head, forcing the thought out because it can’t be. He can’t be. 

“Come on, let’s get you home.” Aaron is solid beside him, one arm around his waist and the other holding a bottle. 

“You shouldn’t be here -” Robert mumbles.

The sky is a dark chasm of nothing and the ground is hard beneath his feet and the only thing that makes sense is the heat from Aaron’s body holding him up. 

“I shouldn’t, no.” 

Robert barely registers it. He just puts his head on Aaron’s shoulder and lets out a deep breath with a sound somewhere between a sigh and a whimper. 

“I miss you,” he mumbles. If Aaron responds, Robert doesn’t hear it. 

The concept of time is slipping through his fingers so when Aaron knocks on the door at Keeper’s Robert has no recollection of how he got here. His feet must have moved, bringing him closer to home but his mind can’t retain it anymore than he can understand what Vic says when she opens the door. 

Aaron shuffles him in and gets him to the sofa. Vic places a glass of water on the coffee table and Robert lies down, the hard arm of the sofa softer than any pillow could be. He is too long but his legs find the other arm of the sofa with ease.

Lying down doesn’t help; the world is still spinning but Aaron sitting on the coffee table is the only thing Robert’s eyes can focus on. Aaron lifts the glass of water to Robert’s lips, watches as he takes a few sips and Robert faintly hopes he can remember this tomorrow, remember Aaron acting like he cares. Even if it is just because of nostalgia. 

“Right, I should -” 

“Stay?” Robert speaks before he thinks, speaks because he can’t think. Aaron is here and it is the closest to comfort he has felt in months. 

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll be over here.” 

His eyes can’t stay open - the energy it takes to keep them so is simply non-existent and so he doesn’t see where Aaron is pointing. He leans his head back and closes his eyes, unspoken words and promises heavy on his lips and tongue as he drifts off into sleep, oblivion taking him gently into its arms.

-

His head is throbbing. Every beat of his heart sends pain shooting through his skull and as he opens his eyes the sunlight sears his retinas and makes it worse. 

“ _ Fuck, _ ” he whispers, puts a hand over his eyes to give them a chance to adjust. His neck is sore but the blanket draped across him is nice and warm. His mouth tastes like death and sitting up proves a greater challenge than he ever thought possible. With his feet on the ground he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and looks around. 

Robert’s heart stutters. In the chair in the corner of the room lies the sleeping form of Aaron, head resting on the back of the chair, legs sprawled in front of him with his jacket draped across his knees. He looks peaceful, mouth slightly ajar as he breathes almost soundlessly.

Aaron.

His throbbing head gives him flitters of last night through a heavy fog, brief memories of a bottle of whiskey and the cemetery and Aaron -  _ Aaron was there  _ \- but how did they end up here? 

Robert tries to get up but gravity is heartless and he falls back down on the sofa, leaning back to give his head a rest.

“How are you feeling?” 

Aaron’s voice is heavy with sleep and his eyes are slightly open. 

“Like I deserve the headache I have.” 

Aaron chuckles, sits up and runs a hand over his face. “What’s the time?” 

Robert shrugs. He spots the half-empty glass of water on the table and gulps it down, body both grateful for the liquid and resenting of anything in Robert’s empty and aching stomach. Aaron gets up, draped his jacket over the back of the chair and smiles at him. 

“Want a cuppa?”

Robert smiles back. Nods. Doesn’t understand what is happening. 

Aaron comes back a few minutes later with two cups of tea. He carefully sets them down on the coffee table before he sits down next to Robert on the sofa, elbows resting on his knees and eyes staring at the wall.

Robert brings the cup to his lips, takes a tentative sip and brings the cup down again without a word being spoken between them. He clears his throat as if to prepare the silence to being broken.

“What’re you doing here?” he croaks.

“Don’t you remember? You asked me to stay…” 

The groan is involuntary. “I’m so sorry Aaron, I shouldn’t have.” 

Aaron’s mouth tugs in a brief smile. “No, maybe you shouldn’t.” 

“What happened last night?” His memory is barely coherent let alone complete. 

“Well,” Aaron begins, “I found you by your mum’s grave, bottle in hand. You were out of it so I brought you here, and then I slept on that chair.” 

The wall seems particularly interesting to Aaron while he talks and Robert joins him in staring at it.

“But…” Robert thinks aloud, “what were you doing looking for me in the first place?” 

Aaron looks down, rubs his hands together absentmindedly, bites his lip; all things he does when he is nervous. Robert’s hands are shaking and it is only partly because of the alcohol fighting to leave his system. 

“I don’t know… I just… yesterday was an important day for us a year ago, didn’t feel right to not check on ya.” 

Robert allows himself to look at Aaron, to meet his eye. They are the most colourful thing in the room and Robert can’t stop looking now that he is; Aaron looks tired but Robert doesn’t care. He is the most beautiful thing Robert has ever seen. 

“How did you know where I was?”

Aaron shrugs. “Just a guess.” He runs a hand over his head. “Feels like the right place to mourn something.” 

Like a marriage. The words hang unspoken in the air. 

Robert feels his eyes go wet, feels emotions bubbling to the surface that he has tried to suppress for  _ days _ and he hates himself for it, hates that Aaron can see it in his eyes. 

“We both lost something when we broke up,” Robert says, begs his voice to keep steady, “but I don’t seem to be dealing with it as well as you do.” 

Aaron places a hand on his thigh just above his knee. The warmth from his hand seems through Robert’s jeans and through his body.

“I need time, Robert. I needed time. To sort myself out, to get my head straight.” 

Robert nods, sucks in air through his nose and finds that it comes out as a sniffle. 

“You deserve it Aaron. I’m glad to see you happy.” 

Aaron smiles and it floods his features, drowning out the memories of pain and tears etched in Robert’s mind. 

“I am happy… I’m better.” 

“With what’s-his-name?” Robert blurts out. 

Aaron shakes his head. “Not seeing him anymore. Didn’t work out…” 

“You don’t have to explain,” Robert begins but Aaron cuts him off. 

“I’m not.” He removes his hand from Robert’s thigh. “I’m just saying that it’s okay to grieve, Robert.” His eyes flicker between Robert’s eyes and his mouth. “I miss you too.” 

Robert lets out a long breath, wipes his eyes with his sleeve. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. 

“Don’t be,” Aaron replies without hesitation. 

“No, I am. I’m sorry that you had to spend last night helping me home, that you can’t seem to get rid of me. I’m sorry that all I seem to do is cause you pain -” 

“That’s not true…” 

“It is and I wish I could go back and stop myself from ever doing anything to hurt you.” 

Aaron shrugs. 

“You can’t.” 

Robert sniffles again, takes a deep breath. 

“No, I can’t.” 

The silence that settles between them seems so final, an impasse that can’t be negotiated, a point of no return. Aaron drinks his tea in three gulps, sets the mug down.

“I still forgive you for it, Robert. I just wish you would too.”

His mind is a blank, his entire knowledge of the english language flies out of the window. He stares at nothing, trying to understand but he can’t. Aaron nods before talking.

“I should go,” he says. Robert sits there silently as he gathers his things, lets him take what he wants and go because stopping him would be selfish, would be causing more pain and not letting him go. He has to let him go. 

The door opens but no footsteps lead out of the cottage. Instead footsteps walk back in and suddenly Aaron’s voice is behind him again. 

“Can we… talk, sometime when you’re not hungover?” 

Robert turns around and Aaron is still smiling. He still seems happy and Robert nods, unable to say no. 

“Good. We’ll talk later, yeah?”

Robert nods again. With a small smile, Aaron leaves and closes the door behind him. As the door closes Robert puts his head in his hands and starts sobbing. 

 

Forgiveness comes slowly, creeps up on him in the weeks that follow. Aaron is better now. Robert deserves the same.

 

They meet. They talk. Aaron smiles more and it suits him, makes Robert fall in love with him all over again. Not that he ever fell out of it.

Aaron gets them both a coffee and the spring wind is blowing through his hair, making his cheeks flush with heat. They are talking and Robert feels better, feels close to good. This is as good as it gets.

Until.

Until Aaron moves closer, thighs touching and chest aching with the need to touch. Aaron does it first. Looks down from Robert’s eyes to his lips, inches closer and looks up at Robert with smiling eyes. 

Their lips touch and Robert doesn’t think his chest can contain all this happiness. Their tongues meet, coffee-laced and warm and Robert places his hand on Aaron’s, twines their fingers. 

“You sure?” he whispers as they break apart. 

“I’m happy, but I want to be happy with you.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @escapingreality51
> 
> any kudos and comments are appreciated.


End file.
